


Blood Moon

by xxfalling_skiesxx



Series: Blood Moon [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, F/M, Hurt Dean Winchester, Love, POV Dean Winchester, POV Original Character, Protective Sam Winchester, References to Supernatural (TV), Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements, Werewolf Reveal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-04 19:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxfalling_skiesxx/pseuds/xxfalling_skiesxx
Summary: Lyla never knew that a pack of cigarettes would change her entire life, for better and for worse.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in YEARS, please forgive me if this is trash and let me know if it's any good!

It all started with a pack of cigarettes.

The twenty-five-year-old opened the jingling door to the gas station convenience store, boots clicking on the linoleum flooring. She approached the counter, not paying any attention to the tall stranger flipping through the porn magazines in the corner. 

“Pack of menthols,” she muttered, flashing her ID at the cashier and shoving six dollars across the counter. The young man handed her the cigarettes without making eye contact, slightly intimidated by her cold demeanor. Without a “thank you” or “have a good day”, Lyla Veblen turned on her heel and marched out of the store, tossing her black hair over her shoulder as she went. 

The cold winter air sent a chill through her spine as she leaned back against the window of the store, taking a long drag and blowing out a smoke ring before breaking it with her finger, lost in thought. 

“You come here often?” a deep, rumbling voice asked. Lyla looked up from staring at her shoes, raising one eyebrow at the speaker. He was nothing short of stunning, but physical attraction and a cheesy one-liner wouldn’t break down the mile-high walls Lyla had spent years building around her heart. 

“That is the most bullshit pickup line I have ever heard,” she spat, rolling her eyes. The man seemed completely unbothered by her hostility. “And to answer your question, yes, only for cigarettes.”

“You know smoking will kill you,” he responded. Lyla took another long drag, shaking her head as she felt the familiar nicotine buzz flood through her body.

“I’m here for a good time, not a long time,” she replied. He laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“My name’s Dean, by the way,” he chuckled. The young woman sighed, flicking her cigarette onto the ground and stubbing it out with her shoe. 

“Lyla,” she muttered. Dean took a step closer, lifting one hand to touch her arm. Lyla jerked back, eyes widening. Dean, immediately sensing her discomfort, took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. 

“I’ll see you around,” he sighed. Lyla didn’t respond, pulling another cigarette from her pack. Her heart was racing, and her strong sense of hearing told her that Dean’s was as well. She watched the bow-legged man walk to his car, a shining black impala. 

Weird.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, hope you like the story so far!

Lyla was convinced Dean was now stalking her. As she went through a pack a day, she frequented the gas station, and without fail, ever since they’d met, Dean would be looking at porn magazines in the corner every time she showed up. She could feel him eyeing her, but he never made another attempt at conversation. Finally, Lyla had had enough. She marched to his side, snatching the magazine out of his hand. He looked up, bewildered, before breaking into a smug grin that made her want to slap him across the face. 

“Hey, sweetheart, no need to get aggressive now,” he laughed. Lyla glared at him, arms folded. 

“I’ve come here every day for a year and I have never seen you here until we met, now you’re here every single day,” she snapped. Dean raised his eyebrows, still smirking.

“Just browsing,” he smiled, taking the magazine from her hand and placing it back on the shelf. 

“What do you really want with me?” Lyla hissed. Her hearing was perked, listening to Dean’s steady heartrate. 

“Well, I’d like to take you out for a drink, but you seem to want to take me out with your fists, so I never asked.”

Lyla recoiled in shock. She hadn’t been asked out, especially in such a blunt manner, since she was in high-school. She heard no upticks in Dean’s heartrate, he was telling the truth, or he was a good liar, she couldn’t tell which. She weighed her options, debating between telling him to back off or agreeing to go with him. 

“Fine. One time,” she agreed.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as she got into the car, Lyla’s regret began to sink in and she wished she never agreed to… Whatever this was. 

Dean’s attempts at conversation were failing miserably. Lyla responded to everything with a sigh or an “mhm” and he was beginning to give up. 

“You know, sweetheart, you didn’t have to agree to this if you didn’t want to…” he said. 

“If I didn’t agree, you’d never leave me alone,” Lyla responded, rolling her eyes. 

“I’m not one to give up easy,” Dean laughed. 

“I can tell,” Lyla muttered. She found herself watching him out of the corner of her eye. He was extremely attractive, Dean was practically the embodiment of everything she found intriguing in a man, but that didn’t mean she was willing to let him into her life.

She’d only made that mistake once. 

By the time they arrived at the small, hole-in-the-wall bar, the sun had begin to sink in the sky and it was getting dark. Dean held the door opened and allowed Lyla to enter before him. 

At least he’s a gentleman.

 

The bar was crowded, and Lyla’s alerted hearing detected everything at once, giving her a massive headache. 

“You alright?” Dean asked, noticing her flinch when they came in. Lyla didn’t answer, shrugging in response. “I don’t speak shrug,” he added.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. Dean sighed, shaking his head. She was one tough nut to crack, to put it lightly. Dean tapped his fingers on the bar and held up two fingers. 

“Two shots,” he grinned at the bartender. 

“Ooh, shots on the first date? You’re a bold one,” Lyla chuckled. Dean’s eyebrows shot to his hairline and that same smug smirk crossed his face. 

“So this is a date?” he grinned. Lyla shoved his shoulder with a trademark eyeroll. 

“Shut up,” she snorted. “This is not a date.”

“That’s not what you just said,” he laughed. The bartender slid their shots across the table and Lyla downed hers immediately and asked for three more. Getting drunk was the only thing that would get her through this date, she didn’t care about being classy. 

Six shots later and Lyla was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol rushing through her system. Her head felt light and she was beginning to sway. Dean had had more than she and was almost as drunk as she was. 

He was also starting to become increasingly more attractive. 

The alcohol had lowered Lyla’s inhibitions and she began to open up a little more. 

“I like a girl that can hold her liquor,” Dean slurred slightly. Lyla laughed, downing another shot. 

“I can drink with the best of them,” she agreed. Dean was closer to her now, almost leaning against her. His hand reached up to move a piece of hair from the side of her face and she flinched slightly.

“Would you wanna come back to my place?”

Say no, say no.”

“Yeah, actually I would.”


End file.
